Things I Learned About Elsa
by Tohdoh
Summary: Don't know much about Elsa? It's okay, I don't know much about my big sister either. How about we find out more together? [Companion fic of "Things I Learned About Anna" and "Things I Learned About Kristoff."]
1. Chapter 1

**Things I Learned About Elsa (1)**

Hello, hello! You've stumbled across my journal! I commend you if you're able to read my handwriting. Um...I'm not sure what else to say. Saying all the fancy greetings and elegant pleasantries are a talent of my sister's. I'll cut to the chase.

I am Princess Anna of Arendelle. (I should have just said that in the beginning. I ramble even as I write...sorry!)

My older sister, Queen Elsa, has always been a figure of mystery. The paragon of royalty and perfection. The veil that had obscured her from the world, and kept her separate from me, was finally flung back as Arendelle opened its gates to celebrate her coronation. But it all happened so fast. I wish the veil hadn't been flung back so suddenly and violently. I could barely comprehend the whirlwind of events leading to the eternal winter. At the same time, I finally understood why she shut me out for so long. It breaks my heart still to hear my sister call herself a monster. I always thought her power over ice and snow was lovely and utterly amazing. Now that she's learning to properly control it (through love!), there's absolutely no excuse for Elsa to put herself down. I've found that the best way to reassure a sad and anxious Elsa is to give her generous amounts of sisterly love and chocolate. It's a tried-and-true method, sure to put a smile on her face.

I've been trying to get to know her better after the Great Freeze, to make up for all those lost years being lonely and divided. Unlike the way Elsa had thawed Arendelle, neither of us can just snap our fingers and boom, it instantly works out. I'll jot down my observations and discoveries in this journal. Sometimes they'll be funny. Sometimes they'll be amusing. Maybe even sad. But all of them will be interesting, no doubt.

Join me in my quest to learn more about my awesome big sister. I always love a good adventure. I hope you do, too.

So, without further ado, here are the things I learned about Elsa.

**SHE WRITES WITH HER LEFT HAND.**

I notice this as she was writing her letter to deport the Duke of Weselton and cut off ties to his country. I read somewhere (probably from Papa's library) that there were many negative words associated with being left-handed: clumsy, awkward, insincere, sinister, malicious, and so on. Elsa isn't any of these at all! If anything, _I'm_ the clumsy and awkward one. (Kristoff likes to joke that I'm also sinister and malicious because I play pranks on him and Sven all the time.) Black magic is even referred to as being the "left-handed path."

All these traditional beliefs and stigmas relating to..."leftness"...can't be further from the truth when it comes to Elsa. I'm glad that Mama and Papa didn't force her to switch to writing with her right hand from an early age. It was already enough for poor Elsa to completely conceal her powers, I guess. I also read from an anatomy book (obviously meant for knowledgeable physicians and not clueless princesses like me) that use of the left hand correlates with use of the right side of the brain. I don't know all the technical details and processes behind it. But it makes sense, since Elsa is so creative and artistic. She occasionally bemoans how her hand gets smeared with ink as she writes, but otherwise she's quite happy with being left-handed. I'm happy, too.

**SHE'S FLUENT IN MANY LANGUAGES.**

Elsa's the queen of Arendelle. She is in no way obligated to speak the languages of her guests that attend her coronation. Still, I've seen her converse with the dignitaries in their primary languages, much to their surprise and appreciation. Elsa can speak Spanish, German, French, and Danish really well. I've found that in her written exchanges with the emperor of China, she even knows some Mandarin! She said to me that the European languages she learned derive from the same root and weren't drastically different, so it was relatively easy for her to pick up.

For a moment, I wondered how she had all the time to learn so many languages, especially for her young age. Then I realize, with a little pang of sorrow, that she _did_ have the time. She must've dedicated herself to years of studying in order to cope with being cooped up in her room for so long. I'm so proud of Elsa being well equipped with the skills needed for ruling as a good queen. Arendelle will prosper in her hands, I'm sure of it.

In addition to the languages spoken today, Elsa can also speak and read Old Norse. During the coronation, she was probably the only one in the cathedral who knew the traditional lines uttered by the bishop. Maybe I can convince her to translate some of Papa's tomes on Norse myths and read them to me. I strongly believe that one can never be too old to outgrow storytelling.

**SHE CAN FREEZE HER HAIR IN PLACE.**

It's been a week since the Great Freeze and her wild, swept back hair is still...well, wild, swept back, and perfect. It hasn't changed a bit. And it's not from grease, either. Turns out that producing tiny shards of frost coating her hands lets her slick her hair back and make it stay. If that isn't cool, I don't know what is. Freezing her hair in place really comes in handy when she has to brush it out of her face as she pores over papers at her desk. She can brush it down just as easily. One time I asked her if she could freeze my hair, but she made my braids stick out like wings. Olaf laughed so hard that I swear he took on this weird shade of pink.

**SHE'S ALLERGIC TO SHRIMP.**

One day, Kristoff decided to treat me and Elsa to smoked salmon and shrimp. The problem wasn't his cooking. On the contrary, his culinary skills are fantastic. The problem was the nasty surprise that came along with Elsa eating the shrimp. Apparently it's a kind of allergy that develops over time and is present during adulthood, which was why Elsa had no problem eating shellfish when she was little. She wasn't so lucky this time. Her mouth started to tingle and she broke out in hives all over her body. After a frenzied bout of scratching, she dunked herself in freezing cold water to soothe her itches. She also stuffed her face full of ice cubes so the swelling in her mouth could go away. Kristoff was so embarrassed, and he worried that Elsa would hate his guts forever. I assured him that it wasn't his fault since he didn't know. When Elsa calmed down, she readily forgave him. On the condition that she'll never eat shrimp again, of course.

**SHE LOVES GEOMETRY.**

Polygons, lines, angles, fractals, frieze patterns, tessellations, you name it. Elsa loves it all. Half of the terms I don't even know; she had to explain them to me. She's very fond of patterns found in nature, the way they achieve order, beauty and harmony from interactions and layouts of simple shapes. Just as I gush over a good romance novel, Elsa can go on for hours and hours on treatises written by Greek mathematicians like Pythagoras and Euclid. Naturally, the hexagon is her favorite shape. She loves the idea that even though each snowflake has perfect radial symmetry, each one is still unique and no two snowflakes are the same. When Elsa isn't busy writing letters, she would draw intricate patterns all over sheets of scratch paper. Sometimes she'd let me draw silly faces in her shapes. I can't say I've decided on a favorite academic subject. But I'll always be a fan of Elsa's beautiful and wonderful creations.

**SHE'S REALLY SENSITIVE TO HEAT.**

Elsa can create snowflakes, icicles, howling blizzards, and even impart life to snowmen. She's immune to the cold even at its most bitter, frigid point. It all comes at a price: she's particularly susceptible to getting bright red sunburns and prone to sweating like a sinner in church. Being sensitive to heat is a source of mild stress and embarrassment for Elsa. Until recently, she had always stayed out of the sun and inside the castle. Of course, her powers help prevent the risk of heat stroke. I think it should give her all the more reason to be liberal and confident with her abilities.

**SHE'S A NEAT FREAK.**

Forgive my word choice. It seems like I'm saying this as if it's a bad thing, but her habit of being meticulously tidy is something I really admire. Like I've said before, Elsa is fond of order and harmony. To an obsessive-compulsive degree, I might add. She fusses over little things and strives to correct anything that disturbs that harmony.

That being said, I think I make her heart stop and blood pressure rise every time she sees my room. But I like having my dresses spread out on my bed, so I can be ready to change on a whim because I can never make up my mind. Elsa respects that, and many times she resists the urge to clean up my organized mess. Her own room is always clean and spotless; sometimes I fight my urge to rile up her arrangements a bit.

Elsa also doesn't like to mix the food on her plate; there must always be an even ratio of sauce and whatever she's eating with it. I should probably not let her catch Kristoff and Sven indulge in their carrot-sharing ritual. She might just puke.

**SHE TAUGHT HERSELF NOT TO SLIP ON ICE.**

Since I first saw Elsa in her lovely ice palace, I've always wondered how she never slipped on the ice floor. While wearing _heels_. I assume it must've been one of her many convenient, innate abilities that came along with her magical powers. With a sad shake of her head, Elsa proved my assumption wrong. She told me it was something she had learned. On that day that changed our lives forever, she had slipped on her own ice in an attempt to save me. Years of isolation, my altered memories, her suppressed powers and very being...Elsa blamed it all on one little slip. It's one thing to keep your back straight, your head up and carrying yourself like a proper lady. It's entirely another to try doing all that on ice. As a child, Elsa had slipped and fell many times in her struggle to avoid repeating that fateful day over again. It's how she lost much of her baby teeth. One time she cut her lip and almost had to get stitches, and another she nearly cracked her skull.

On the verge of tears, Elsa went on to tell me that all that suffering she went through had been for nothing, because she ended up freezing my heart. I was close to crying myself, and I insisted that what she said wasn't true. It's amazing what lengths she went to keep me safe, even if it broke her heart and put her body through great risk. Who was I to so foolishly say that she didn't know anything about true love? If anyone dared to say that my big sister wasn't capable of love, they'd be getting what I gave to Hans: a good old right hook in the face to knock some sense in to them.

**OLAF WILL MELT WHEN ELSA DIES.**

Don't worry, this didn't happen. (Thank God.) But I predict this would occur on the day I'd lose my only family and the snowman we made together. I've come to this unsettling thought because of what happened to Elsa when summer ended and fall began. There was a nasty bug going around Arendelle, and Elsa fell violently ill. She wouldn't stop vomiting and she suffered from a terrible fever. She felt really hot to the touch and she couldn't get out of bed. Kristoff had his ice handy, and I constantly stayed by Elsa's bedside to keep her company despite her insistent warnings to stay away from her. I wouldn't let her push me away again, even if I would end up sick too.

I was so afraid of losing her, just like how we lost Mama and Papa to that storm at sea. From the day Elsa got sick, Olaf began to have a hard time keeping himself together. His personal flurry grew thinner than usual, and he was always in danger of melting into formless liquid. On days Elsa felt at her worst, Olaf's flurry was nearly invisible, almost disappearing into thin air. It broke my heart to see the usually cheerful snowman so distressed, especially when he feared that Elsa will "melt," too. Her fear of leaving me alone again became her drive to stay alive. Just as I hated seeing her unwell, she hated seeing me upset.

With lots of rest, hot soup, careful attention from the doctors, and lots of emotional support, Elsa eventually recovered and Olaf was back to his happy-go-lucky self. Arendelle seemed to let out a big sigh of relief as news of Elsa's recovery circulated throughout the whole kingdom. When the sickness passed from the land entirely, the first thing Elsa did was throw a huge feast at the castle to celebrate. I'm not so native to believe that Elsa will live forever. Yes, she has magical powers, but she's only human. The hard truth is that someday she will die. But I hope that day won't come anytime soon.

Our journey to grow closer and strengthen our love as sisters was just beginning.


	2. Chapter 2

**Things I Learned About Elsa (2)**

I'm happy to say that our journey to learn more about each other is still going strong!

I found out that just as I've written about Elsa, she in turn wrote about me. Now that just makes me insatiably curious, but she always keeps her journal out of my reach with that sly little smirk of hers. Elsa assures me that she never wrote down anything malicious or false, and I believe her. Never in a million years would I do the same thing to her. I have nothing but the utmost respect, love and adoration for my big sister. I always love learning something new, especially if it has to do with the beloved yet still somewhat enigmatic Queen of Arendelle. I feel like a detective getting to the bottom of a mystery. But I'm not trying to solve a murder or anything like that; this is all in good fun!

I hope you can forgive my handwriting. The neatness of it and my excitement share an inverse relationship, unfortunately. But in my excitement to write, I'll do my best to keep my handwriting readable. So here are some more things I learned about Elsa.

**HER FAVORITE SAINT IS EULALIA OF MÉRIDA.**

No, not Merida the flame-haired princess from DunBroch (I'd love to meet her, though). It's pretty much a given that my favorite saint is Joan of Arc. The coolest (and only) French lady-knight I know, Joan was my friend I spent lonely hours talking to, back when I so wrongly thought my big sister never cared for me.

Elsa came to a conviction of her own favorite saint not too long herself. She recently heard of Eulalia of Mérida from Lord Ignacio: the Spanish dignitary who had attended her coronation. After the Great Freeze and a few days before he departed for his homeland, he had told Elsa that she reminded him of the saint, prompting him to elaborate upon her request.

Elsa came to me saying that he had a good point. Eulalia is the patron saint of torture victims and runaways, both of which Elsa said she could relate to. For many years leading up to her coronation, she had been tortured with guilt, loneliness and anxiety. And during her coronation, it reached a breaking point and Elsa felt that she had to run away from it all.

Eulalia wasn't so lucky; like Joan, she met a violent end. She was martyred at a young age and burned at the stake. But after that, a miraculous snow covered her nakedness, indicating her sainthood and purity. Elsa's unintentional winter was...well, not miraculous in a traditional sense. But if it weren't for that winter, I wouldn't have met Kristoff, and set off a chain of events that thawed my frozen heart and taught Elsa the important lesson of love. From the start, it didn't seem like a miracle. But looking back, I consider it a miracle that helped us all in the long run. I think we can all agree that several parallels can be made between Elsa and Eulalia. And guess what? Eulalia is the patron saint of ice and snow!

**HER FAVORITE BOOK IS _INFERNO_ BY DANTE ALIGHIERI.**

_Inferno_ is actually one of three epic poems. The others are _Purgatorio_ (Purgatory) and Paradiso (Paradise), and are collectively known as _The Divine Comedy._ Not because it's funny, Elsa said. "Comedy" back then was just another word for a story with a happy ending. And ending the story in heaven definitely makes for a nice close.

What exactly is _Inferno,_ you ask? It's a lovely poem about Hell. No, I'm not kidding. _Inferno_ is Italian for Hell, and the poem is all about the poet's nice little tour down the stinking, miserable bowels of Hell. It surprised me that this, of all books and poems, would be Elsa's favorite. I didn't expect her to like something so graphic and visceral. But it is a classic, with lots of transcendent moral and spiritual truths that still speak to us in this day and age. Out of the three, _Inferno_ is the more well-known poem and one that catches the imaginations and fears of many. Each sin dealt its own gruesome punishment. People who commit violence in life wallow in a river of boiling blood in death. Heretics burned in coffins. Thieves turned into snakes and snapped at each other. Hypocrites wore beautiful robes hiding heavy weights that dragged them down. The list goes on.

One particular part of the poem caught Elsa's attention most of all: the deepest, worst part of Hell is not made of fire, but ice. Seems strange to me, but when Elsa explained, it began to make sense. According to Dante, the worst sin on his long list is treachery. The other, arguably "less bad" sins are a twisted form of love. Lust, greed and gluttony are all excess love for the wrong things. At least it's _some_ kind of love. But treachery is a complete lack of love, an act that's carried out only by those with the hardest of hearts. Frozen hearts. So traitors are punished by being trapped in a lake of ice for eternity. Satan himself, the ultimate traitor who betrayed God, is stuck in the middle of that lake.

One rainy night by the fire, when Elsa read the stanzas to me, I made the strangest connection. I remembered Hans during Elsa's coronation. When he talked about trying to find his own place, he gestured to the fjord. The fjord before it became frozen, like the lake in Dante's Hell.

I know it's definitely not my place to judge people. But I think I can venture an educated guess where Hans would end up in the afterlife. That is, if he never bothered to redeem himself.

**SHE HAS A GUILTY PLEASURE FOR BELLY DANCING.**

Elsa may not be a professional, but I think she has the potential to go far with those killer hips of hers. Too self-conscious to practice or perform in the ballroom, and considering it way below her dignity to do so, Elsa would belly dance in her study as a way to relieve stress. How do I know this? I happened to catch her in the act.

The day started out with me minding my own business and capering around the castle rooftops, as usual. I decided to scale down her window to see what she was up to. Maybe it was early in the morning, or she forgot. But the curtains were parted, and I could peer through her window and see Elsa not sitting at her desk as usual...but doing her own form of exercise: belly dancing! Pale and shimmering in her form-fitting yet light ice gown, she spun across her room and made quite a spectacle. Her loose braid spun with the train of her gown. Her arms were spread out, her feet made light, quick steps on the floor, and her hips were a force all on their own. She looked both relaxed and really into it, lost in her guilty pleasure. Upon seeing her I was tempted to burst out laughing. But the more I watched, the more I simply remained still with a big grin on my face.

When Elsa whirled around and lifted her eyes to see me, she froze in mid-spin and turned redder than a tomato. From outside the window I gestured for her to continue. She furiously shook her head and quickly returned to her desk, failing to hide an embarrassed smile as she tried to get back to work. Elsa's guilty pleasure remains a secret between her and me. But now I knew what she did to keep so fit.

**SHE ENJOYS SKINNY-DIPPING.**

If I found this out from Kristoff, I think I'd kill him (and apologize to Sven later).

Thankfully, I heard this through a little confession Elsa made. Sometimes, on moonless nights and whenever she felt she needed to calm down, Elsa would do so by swimming naked in the freezing waters of the fjord. Far away from shore, with no nearby light or people around to catch her in the act, Elsa could relax and be herself. Frigid cold water that could easily kill a man with hypothermia never bothered her in the slightest. She liked to submerge her head several feet below the surface, hold her breath, and just suspend herself in quiet, dark, watery peace.

She sounded so content and a bit embarrassed as she described all this to me. I assured her that it was perfectly okay for her to do that. She was the queen, after all; she could do whatever she wanted. As long as she wasn't seen, and it calmed her, I have no problem with Elsa having the fjord to herself on some nights. I should tell Kristoff that we might have to move our romantic boat trip elsewhere.

**SHE LIKES TO COLLECT COINS.**

Contrary to what most people thought, Elsa did have time from her duties as queen to indulge in a few choice hobbies, coin collecting being one of them. Despite being a ruler herself, Elsa always finds it strange to imagine having her own face stamped on a coin as other monarchs past and present have. Our currency bears the yellow crocus insignia, and not much else beyond that. Arendelle is a small and simple kingdom, and Elsa is content with keeping it that way.

She loves collecting coins from lands and kingdoms far and wide. Certainly not the type to simply hoard coins and keep them in a single jumbled pile, she enjoys organizing coins by the approximate date it was made, the date she got it, and place of origin. She displays them in her study, alongside the model of a Viking longship Papa owned.

Besides sitting in a frame and looking pretty, the foreign coins were also quite useful. The newest ones informed us of the current rulers. King Viktor, Hans's oldest brother and the first of thirteen sons, ruled the Southern Isles. King Leopold, who should seriously consider replacing his current Duke, ruled over Weselton. King Thomas and Queen Primrose ruled Corona. King Fergus and Queen Elinor ruled DunBroch. Someday Elsa and I want to visit all these kingdoms. With the exception of Weselton, perhaps.

Elsa is particularly proud of the coins she acquired from India, China, and the Middle East. She's very intrigued by the lovely, outlandish writing engraved on them. The little Chinese she knew isn't enough to help her translate most of the coins she had, which bore ancient, now obsolete script from dynasties that reigned centuries ago. She certainly couldn't make heads or tails of Sanskrit and Arabic, though she wished she could. The only thing she disliked about having so many coins is the metallic smell sticking to her hands when she handles them.

**SHE'S A VERY TALENTED PIANIST.**

Elsa insists otherwise, but I won't have it. In my humble opinion, and perhaps out of loving bias for my sister, I think she plays the piano extremely well. I don't have the focus and discipline to pick up an instrument and stick to it.

Elsa had been at the piano for a good number of years, and it shows.

To compensate for lack of large hands and long fingers, she was very quick. Her hands would fly across the keyboard, undeterred by the ridiculous octaves and far-reaching keys needed to play difficult pieces. For compositions she knew particularly well, Elsa didn't even need to keep her eyes open. She looks so soulful when she closes her eyes and gives it all into playing a piece. Taught to conceal and not feel, she loved that music provided one of the few outlets Elsa could safely express herself. She could pour her mind and heart into something she loved. I could tell that as a child, she must've spent many lonely hours drowning in her sorrow. But things have changed. She performs with energy and vigor, with a big smile in her face and a light in her eyes as I sit next to her and listen to her play.

While she was capable of playing powerful, moving symphonic movements, Elsa preferred to play slow, smooth serenades. Sometimes she'd even make up her own compositions. Most of them had been dedicated to Mama and Papa when they were alive, but now she plays them for me. Sometimes she'd play a song for Kristoff, Sven and Olaf. Is there anything my big sister can't do?

**SHE CAN'T THROAT SING.**

Okay, maybe there's one thing. Elsa is _not_ good at throat singing.

A vocal technique that originates from somewhere in Siberia, throat singing is notoriously hard and nearly impossible to pull off. Batu the stable boy could do it. He's dead now, but I still remember his voice. It could sound anything from being high and reedy, like the whistling wind, or powerful and deep, like the growl of a dog. It's strangely beautiful. No documents or written records of any kind exist to instruct people how to throat sing; it's handed down by oral tradition. All I knew was that it required producing multiple pitches at once, from deep within the throat.

Now, I consider myself a decent singer. It's hard enough to clearly and properly sound one pitch. But more than one altogether? That's insane. Elsa can sing too, though I feel that she sings better than me. After hearing a Russian-Siberian singing group one day, she wanted to give throat singing a try; it seemed to be a fun challenge.

Not wanting to alarm (and possibly torture) the castle staff with her singing attempts, Elsa went outside. In the open seclusion of the nearby woods, she tried to achieve that unique range of the whistling sound and deep ululations. She made sounds so raw and guttural that Sven actually mistook them to be mating calls of a female reindeer. And in someplace like a forest or near the mountains, the sounds carried _far_. Apparently Sven was seized by such a love-struck frenzy that even Kristoff couldn't stop him as the reindeer charged through the woods, barreled straight into Elsa and didn't realize his mistake until too late. Luckily Elsa was quick to conjure a wall of snow. It softened the impact between her and Sven as they collided. Still, she flew back several feet and tumbled into the snow, looking so dazed, startled and confused that Kristoff was both downright horrified and resisting the urge to laugh his butt off. He apologized profusely on behalf of Sven, but Elsa laughed it off and in turn apologized for her terrible throat singing.

Just between you and me, I wish I had been there. It must've been so funny. I'd probably laugh so hard people wouldn't see my freckles from my face being so red. Needless to say, Elsa wasn't going to pick up throat singing again anytime soon.

**SHE WRINGS HER HANDS WHEN SHE GETS NERVOUS.**

I'm sure she's far from being the only one with this habit.

But it's not just something she does when she gets jitters in her stomach. It's her way of calming and controlling herself. I'd notice that before some meeting or social event, she would wring her hands, clenching and unclenching them as if they hurt and they needed a massage. I asked her if her hands were hurting, and with a tight smile she said it was just something she did when she got nervous. By gripping her hands close to her body she tries to close herself off from others, including me, to avoid hurting anyone. By massaging them, she silently reassures herself that everything will be all right.

Elsa's doing her best to do away with this nervous habit, especially when she has to engage in public speaking. When it came to duplicitous and manipulative officials from other countries, those looking for any opportunity to take advantage of her, Elsa knew she could not afford to look nervous and weak in front of them. She's been more confident and assertive lately. She refuses to be a pushover, but she'd much rather be loved than feared. In matters of negotiation, she never used her powers to subdue anyone. That would be tyrannical and unfair.

I often remind her that she doesn't have to be intimidating. Just confident.

Confidence killed two birds with one stone. By being confident, Elsa trusted in herself that she'd do fine. She also trusted in herself that no one would get hurt with her in control.

**SHE'S NOT THE LEAST BIT INTERESTED IN SUITORS (at least, for now).**

The guy that manages to steal her heart and claim her by marriage would be no less than the luckiest guy in the whole world.

Elsa has everything going for her. She's beautiful, kind, smart, not to mention extremely powerful in both the political realm and her own element. Every year suitors turn up at Arendelle, and every year Elsa is forced to turn them away either forcefully or politely, depending on the kind of man who shows up on her doorstep. Elsa is simply not interested in marriage at the moment. What takes top priority on her mind is strengthening the sisterly bond with me and taking good care of Arendelle. She has no time nor interest for distractions such as suitors. With almost embarrassed sincerity, she recently admitted to me that she wasn't ready for a romantic relationship.

I was quick to tell her that it's nothing to be embarrassed about. She's so unlike me. From an early age I dreamed and pined for romance, never bothering to tell myself that I might not be ready for that kind of relationship if I couldn't even bond with my sister. Elsa remained open to the possibility of having a man in her life someday. But that someday is not today. And if "the one" never shows up for Elsa, she's perfectly fine with having me in the center of her life.

I'm more than honored to be in that position.


End file.
